


Sleepless for a Weekend

by AmeliaDarkholme



Series: The Void in the Deadlights [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Stanley Uris Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaDarkholme/pseuds/AmeliaDarkholme
Summary: "That's what's going to happen if he saves you from the Deadlights.""Fuck you, you fucking clown.""How about we make a deal? Your soul in exchange for his everything?""Alright. I'll do it. Do your worst.""Oh, believe me. I will."And Eddie threw the fence-post as hard as he could toward the clown.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough & Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: The Void in the Deadlights [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686421
Comments: 29
Kudos: 213





	1. Making a Deal with the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> God, I just can't stay away from these two disaster idiots. I know I should finish my other stories, but I really I have no self-control. At least, this story is much shorter than my other unfinished stories, and is already halfway done. Leave me a comment and tell me what you think of the story so far. I hope you like it :D

He saw it all.

Richie saw himself stupidly getting Deadlighted after saving Mike. He saw Eddie saving him by throwing that fence-post at Pennywise. Saw Eddie dying from Pennywise's claw after saving Richie. Then there was Eddie's last words before Richie left him to help their friends kill the clown. And then Ben and Mike were dragging him from Eddie's body, forcing Richie to once again leave him alone. It ended with the remaining Losers in the quarry, with all of them piling up around him, fruitlessly trying to comfort him. It didn't work. It would never work because Eddie was dead and Richie was alive.

Then he saw it all again. And again. And again. And _fucking again._

He had no idea how many times it was exactly, but then he heard It.

He heard the clown's voice.

"That's what's going to happen if he saves you from the Deadlight," Its voice came in a hiss. "If he saves you and wakes you up, he won't realise that I'm right behind him."

Richie could not see It, but he knew the fucking clown was there. He could feel that It was everywhere.

"I've seen this. I'll save him," Richie said, trying all his best to sound confident and defiant. "I'll push him out of the way."

Pennywise’s laughter came then. "But it will be all too late. Like you've said before. You _have_ seen it happening, so you'll know how you'll _always_ be too late. Because you can't ever do anything right. Because you're useless. Because you're a fucking _coward_. You’re better off dead, Richie."

Richie knew It was right. Everything the clown said about him was a hundred percent true. He had been aware of it his entire life, and he hated himself for it. He had hated himself for being the absolute waste of space that he was. Richie was fucking pathetic. He was the true Loser. All of his friends had something good about them, but not him. Not Richie. He was rotten. Rotten to the core. And his fucking rotten-self was going to survive this whole shitshow while people like Stanley and Eddie died. It should have been him. He should be the one who died. Not Stanley. Not Eddie. _Never_ Eddie.

As if It was reading his mind, which Richie was sure of, the clown said, "Don't you think it's unfair that you get to live while they die? Because I do think so. Stanley and Eddie could do _such_ great things if they were given the chance. But you? You'd just fuck everything up. You always do. Yet you're the one who’s going to live. Such a waste."

"Stop it, man. Just…fucking _stop_ ," Richie breathed out. If he had his actual body, he would be puking his guts out. He did not though, which made it weird why he still felt squeasy and ill. "Why the fuck do you hate me so much? I can tell. You've always targeted me differently. Why? Why did you do it, fucker?"

"You really want to know?” Pennywise said, his voice mockingly teasing. “I will tell you, don’t worry. I choose you because you’re _weak_ , Richie Tozier. You are the weakest one out of the seven of you. And I feed off your weakness. You'll always be weak, Trashmouth, and _nothing_ can change that."

"Fuck you, you fucking clown."

Pennywise cackled again, the sound was both grating and terrifying. "Oh, Richie, I knew I was right when I chose you... How about we make a deal?"

"A deal?" In the back of his mind, he could almost hear Stanley's familiar voice telling him to refuse the offer. But Richie wasn't listening to him.

He was listening to It.

"Yes, a deal. When Eddie strikes me with the post, I won't kill him in retaliation. But I get to keep you here. With me. Forever."

Richie took sometime to consider the offer. "So, my life in exchange for his?"

"No. Your _soul_ in exchange for his everything. He will survive all of this and live his life the way he deserves, as long as I get to keep you as my play-thing. In fact, I think can offer you one better."

"What? What is it?"

He could almost feel his heart pounding hard and fast in his body as he waited for Pennywise's answer. Richie knew, however, whatever the offer was, he'd take it. He'd do everything to save Eddie. He really didn't care what would happen to him, as long as Eddie was safe.

"I will let all of your friends go. I will let them leave Derry with all of their memories in tact. I will let them live the rest of their lives happy. But in exchange for all of my kindness." Here, the twisted fucker paused, and Richie could sense the sick sense of giddiness radiating from It. "You will give me your soul, Richie. You will never die, and I get to keep you here with me forever to torture you however I desire. It will be like living in a nightmare, except I will _hurt_ everything about you, and there will be no waking up. Ever."

Talk about selling your soul to the Devil, for real.

"How can I be sure that you'll keep your word? For all I know, this could all be a fucked up trick."

"You can't. But then again, what more do you have to lose? We both know that I'm winning, Richie."

Touché. Mike's stupid ritual turned out to be total bullshit, and without Eddie, Richie doubted the remaining five of them could win against It. They really were left with no choice. True, this could all be a trick. But Richie wouldn't be able to live with himself if it were true and he was given the choice to take the offer yet he didn't take it. Mike was right all along, it seemed. A sacrifice had to be made, and it would be Richie. It would be _his_ sacrifice to make. And he was alright with it. It wasn't like he'd be missed anyway. He was all alone after all.

Richie was going to do it.

_(No, no, no, no! Richie, don’t do it, man! Stop! Don’t do it! Fuck stop—)_

"Alright," he said firmly, decision made. "I'll do it. My soul for all of my friends' lives and happiness."

"So noble," It taunted. "Are you sure about this? Because there'll be no take-backs. Once I have your soul, then that's it. I will put you through so much pain, you'd wish you'd have been a little selfish."

"Just do it, bitch. Do your worst."

"Oh, believe me. I will."

And It laughed again. This time, Pennywise's laughter was even more sinister and manic than before. A normal person would have been scared shitless. A normal person would have changed their mind. But not Richie. He was scared, but that didn’t mean he would change his mind. He had never gone back on his words before, and he wasn't going to start now. Not even for the clown. Richie was going to save his friends, at all cost.

And his time in Hell began.

* * *

_“Beep beep, motherfucker!”_

And Eddie threw the fence-post as hard as he could toward the clown. He watched it pierced the back of Its throat, heard the angry scream It made when the post struck him. Eddie didn't wait to see It fell backward to Its doom. He had rushed to Richie's side, who had fallen hard on his back on the rocks after It fell. With his heart thundering against his ribs in elation, Eddie leaned over Richie.

“Rich?” he asked, patting his cheek. The comedian's eyes were still white, his nose still bleeding.

Eddie looked over his shoulder but Pennywise was gone. Not even his angry hiss could be heard. It was eerily quiet in the cave. He saw the other Losers slowly approached the spot where they all last saw the clown, all of them moving slowly in trepidation. Eddie didn't think he'd done it, that he'd actually killed It, but the place where that gigantic spider-clown had stood was devoid of Its presence. He knew that if he turned his back on It, there was a big chance that It could have attacked him, probably as Its last attempt to hurt him for trying to kill It. But Eddie really could care less at that moment. He had Richie to worry about. Richie who wasn't waking up.

“Rich, I think I did it, I think I killed it!” Eddie said again. He was practically straddling his best friend then as he cupped Richie's face with his hands, willing him to wake up.

But Richie didn't move. His eyes were now closed, and Eddie saw he was getting paler. That was when Eddie noticed that even though Richie's nose had stopped bleeding, he felt cold against Eddie's hands. His breathing also came ragged and heavy, his pulse was fluttering weakly when Eddie checked it. He began to panic. Had he failed? Had killing It meant he'd lose Richie to the Deadlights instead?

No. No. Eddie was _not_ going to lose him.

“Richie!” he shouted desperately as he shook Richie hard by his shoulders. “Richie, wake up, you bastard! Wake up! Rich, come on! Look, I did it! I killed the clown. Look, dammit! I killed It! I killed It! _Fucking look, Richie, please!_ "

_(“Eddie, look! Eddie, look at me! Look at me!”)_

"He's not waking up, Eddie. He will never wake up."

Eddie nearly fainted from the shock of having Pennywise whispering right in his ear. It had shrunken back to the size Eddie was more familiar with, and It was sitting cross-legged right next to him. It had a small smirk as It looked at Eddie, head tilted to the side in a deceptively unthreatening manner. Eddie heard his remaining friends screamed out his name, telling him to get away from It. But he didn't. He couldn't possibly leave Richie alone with the clown. And Eddie _had_ to know. He had to know what It had meant.

"What do you mean he's never waking up?" Eddie asked. He had moved back to sit on the ground, pulling Richie onto his lap so he could craddle him protectively in his arms. From the corner of his eye, he saw his friends rushing to get to him and Richie.

"It means exactly what it's supposed to mean," It replied, face splitting into that creepy grin It always had. "You see, _Eds_ ; Richie and I made a deal."

_Oh, Richie. What have you done?_

"What kind of a deal?"

"We agreed that if I get to keep him with me till the end of time, I'll let you all live a normal life."

"W-w-what the fuck d-did you just s-s-say?" Bill said, his stutter coming back full force.

Pennywise's grin, if possible, grew wider as he turned to look at the other Losers, whom Eddie had only realised were there with him. "I get Richie, and all of you get to walk out of here. So, I suggest all of you run along now. I'm only here to collect my new _friend_."

Before anyone saw it coming, Pennywise forcefully yanked Richie away from Eddie's arms, and dragged him along to the hole where It hid, moving inhumanly fast. And everything that happened next was a blur to Eddie. He wasn't completely aware what he was doing when he'd gone after Richie, running as fast as he could to his friend with the rest of the Losers following behind him. Eddie practically threw himself forward to grab Richie's right hand tightly before the comedian disappeared into the hole where It had gone first. He desperately held on Richie, pulling with all his might so that Richie wouldn't be taken by It. The clown roared in anger at him and tugged on Richie violently, Eddie feared that It would tear Richie in half. He almost cried in relief when he felt Beverly gripped on his own arm for leverage, when he saw Mike and Ben came to grab Richie by his shoulders so they could have a better hold on their friend to pull him away from Pennywise. It was growing angrier, Its jaw was unhinged to reveal the hundreds of Its razor-sharp teeth.

Then Bill came and kicked It right in the face.

" _You're not taking him!_ " Bill yelled as he kicked It for a second time. "I won't let you take another one of my family. Not after Georgie. Not after Stanley. _No more._ "

And Eddie saw it then. He could see how It was shrinking. He saw the flash of fear in Its now-blue eyes. Blue, not the sinister yellow they always turned into whenever It was going for a kill. And as his mind flew back to the leper he choked in the pharmacy, Eddie knew. There really _was_ a way to kill It. He'd almost done it back in the pharmacy. In his blind rage, he didn't even have the chance to feel fear when he squeezed the leper's neck. He'd made It small. He could see It actually shrinking again, as It looked up at Bill, who looked terrifyingly beautiful in his rage. Eddie had never seen his best and oldest friend that angry before. In all the years they grew up together, this was the first time Eddie saw Bill truly angry about something. And Eddie knew exactly what he had to do with that.

What they _all_ had to do.

They had to be angry enough that their rage eclipsed their fear.

Lucky for him, he always had a lot of rage whenever he was desperate and frustrated.

"You think you're so fucking powerful," Eddie spat out to the clown as he scrambled onto his feet. He had a huge stone in his hand as he dug up all twenty-seven-years worth of desperation and frustration that he had before turning them all into rage. "You think you can scare us into submission. But you're _wrong_. You're nothing but a fucking clown."

He slammed the stone at Pennywise.

"You have taken my memories." Another hit. "You have taken my freedom." Another hit. "You have taken my friend." And another. "I'm _not_ going to let you take the love of my life, you sick fuck."

And another.

Eddie could feel Mike, Ben and Beverly staring at him in shock and probably a bit of fear. But not Bill. The leader of the Losers Club seemed to have realised what Eddie was doing. Grabbing the fence-post Eddie had thrown at It, Bill then struck it hard into Pennywise's left eyes, eliciting an angry roar from the clown. It didn't take long after that for the rest of the Losers to follow what they did. If Eddie had to guess why, it probably because they saw how small Pennywise was getting, and realised what was happening. It tried to fight back, growling loudly and shifting into whatever form the clown thought would scare them. That didn't work though. They were frustrated and desperate enough to feel immense rage, and that rage was strong enough to cloud the fear they had.

" _Stop it!_ I am the Eater of Worlds! You can't do this!" Pennywise screamed, only to get kicked in the face by Beverly.

"You're just a clown, fuckface!" Beverly yelled, looking like an avenging angel as she punched It with her barehand, her whole being seemed to glow in her rage. "And we're gonna fucking end you!"

"Yeah! There are six of us, and only one of you!" Ben said, backing up Beverly. "You are so going down, you fucking clown!"

"And this time, we'll make sure you're never coming back," Mike added calmly, his voice cool and dettached, so unlike the Mike that Eddie knew.

Pennywise had shrunk into a pile of goo now, his eyes flickering between yellow and blue as they widened in fear. Those eyes flew once at Richie's unconscious form before It talked, right when Bill's foot was about to squish Its face like a cockroach. "If you kill me, Richie will never wake up again. He's bound to me now. If I go, I'm taking him with _—_ "

_Do it, Eds._

Pennywise stopped talking abruptly at the same time Eddie whipped his head toward Richie's form. He was still unconscious, no sign that he was waking up soon. But judging from Pennywise's reaction, it was clear to Eddie that that was Richie.

_Richie?_ he tried once, wishing with all his might for a response.

An hour seemed to pass before…

_Do it. Kill the clown for me. For Stan. For Georgie._

"Clever boy," Pennywise cackled, taking Eddie's attention back to him. "Using me to contact your _dearest Eds_. I was right all along to choose you, Richie. Oh, it’ll be so _fun_ to break you over and over and _over again._ "

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Bill said, holding the post threateningly at Pennywise's face.

_Eddie, I can't hold It for much longer. It's getting stronger again. Kill It. Kill It now._

It let out a chilling hiss that made every single one of them flinch. It glared at Richie, and Eddie watched the body jerked at the same time Richie's scream filled his head. It was the most horrible sound Eddie had ever heard, and it made his head pound so terribly, that he started to sway from the force of the pain.

"Eddie!" Beverly and Bill cried, both of their hands were just quick enough to catch him.

"Eddie, you alright?" he heard Ben asked him, right when Mike, who had kept his eyes on Pennywise, said, "Guys, I think It's getting bigger again."

Eddie was only half-listening though, because he was too busy trying to talk to Richie again, who kept on screaming.

_Richie! Richie, what happened? What did It do to you?_

It took a while before Richie replied.

_Don't worry about me, Eds. Just fucking kill the clown already._

_But It said—_

_I know what It said. I made a deal with It, remember. My soul for your life. Now go kill It. Don't waste this chance you have._

_Richie—_

"Oh my God, he's bleeding again! _Richie_!" Beverly screamed as she went to his side, craddling Richie in her lap. Eddie saw that not only was blood pouring from his nose again, but he was also convulsing.

Eddie could only imagine how much in pain Richie was.

_Tell me how stop it. You're in Its head. Tell me how to do this. Tell me how to kill It._

_Crush It. Every single bit of the clown. Crush It until It turns into dust. Into nothing._

"Bill, stomp on It," Eddie said, his voice breaking as fought back his tears from falling. "Crush Its stupid head until there's nothing left."

"But Richie—“

_"Just fucking do it, man!"_

**_CRACK!_ **

Both Pennywise and Richie screamed loudly, and it was only until Bill planted his foot on Its head for the second time that Eddie realised Richie was _actually_ screaming. It was only then that he realised the sound wasn't only in his head. Tears were now falling profusely down his face as he watched Mike and Ben joining Bill in stomping on Pennywise; watched how every time their feet landed on It, Richie let out a gut-wrenching scream. There was a voice in the back of his mind, a voice that sounded a lot like Stanley, that tried to tell him that they should stop. Eddie wasn’t listening though. For all he knew, that voice could only be It, trying to use his _dead_ best friend to stop them from killing It. He heard Beverly sobbing from behind him, and he vaguely registered her saying something between her cries. But Eddie couldn't catch what she was saying. Richie was trying to reach him again, and this time, his voice sounded far too weak, Eddie had to focus really hard to hear it.

_Hey, Eds?_

_Yes, Chee?_

_Thank you._

"Welcome to the Losers Club, asshole!"

With that, Bill ended Its life for good.

_(Don’t let him do this, Eddie! He’s going to get himself killed. Eddie, don’t—NOOOO!)_


	2. I'm Not Gonna Go Away, I'm Still Involved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If anyone could ever claim that they were familiar with grief, that would be Bill Denbrough. Since he was only thirteen, Bill had experienced the kind of grief that no adult should have to deal with, least of all a child.

_About fourteen hundred miles away from Derry, somewhere in Georgia, someone else had heard the deal Richie made with It. Someone had_ seen _what the clown put Richie through for almost a hundred years in the Deadlights. And they tried to save Richie, because no one deserved that kind of torture. Least of all, Richie. Stupidly loyal Richie, who only wanted to put a smile on everyone’s face, especially his loved ones. Recklessly brave Richie, who would do anything to protect his loved ones, whatever the consequences were._

_When Richie found out how to kill the psychotic clown once and for all, despite knowing exactly what would happen to him, they panicked. They tried to stop Richie from doing it, tried to reach out telepathically to the only person that Richie would listen to. But they should have known Eddie would_ always _trust Richie first and foremost over anyone else. No matter how hard they tried, Eddie would only believe in Richie, and only Richie. Just like Richie would for Eddie, the youngest Loser would do anything Richie asked him to. No matter what the consequences were._

_That was when they knew what they had to do. If they had to save their idiotic friends and their equally idiotic plans, they had to be there to do it. So, as they prayed to a God they hadn’t prayed to in a long time, they made a decision._

_About fourteen hundred miles away from Derry, in a standard white-picket fenced house in Georgia, with thick bandages wrapped around scarred wrists, Stanley Uris told his wife he was going back to his hometown._

* * *

If anyone could ever claim they were familiar with grief, that would be Bill Denbrough.

Since he was only thirteen, Bill had experienced the kind of grief that no adult should have to deal with, least of all a child. He named that first grief Georgie, after the brother he lost. And Bill carried that grief for almost three decades, even when he’d left Derry and forgotten practically everything about his childhood. His second grief was named Zack, after the father he lost. Bill’s relationship with the man deteriorated after they lost Georgie, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t angry with his father for pushing him away. It was why he didn’t come to visit his father when the man was sick, claiming that he was busy with college. Not even when his mother called him saying that his father had _begged_ to see him one more time before he passed away. Not even when the old man died from heart attack and was about to be buried six feet under. By the time Bill could finally forgive his father, it was too late. Zack Denbrough was already buried beside his younger son’s empty grave.

Bill’s third grief was named Stanley, after his best friend. After the boy who had followed Bill down that sewer despite his fears. After the man who had sacrificed himself so the rest of the Losers could live. But before Bill could get properly ‘acquaintanced’ with this grief, he was already introduced to a new one. A fourth grief named Richie.

_(“You know, Billy; when I’m older and have so much money, I’ll get us all out from this stupid town. You, and me, and Eds, and Stan. And yes, of course, we can bring little Georgie too. You see, the four of us can live together in my big house, even when each one of us are already married and have our own family. Because it will always be just the four of us against the world._ Always. _I promise, Bill.”)_

Even with the other three Losers, Bill knew that he would always love his three oldest friends a little bit more. The original Losers, as Beverly used to say. The Big Four, as Ben dubbed them. The Four Musketeers, as Mike always said.

And now, their quartet was down to two, and this was all Bill’s fault.

_Always_ his fault.

Bill didn’t wait to see whether Pennywise had died for real after he stomped on It really hard for the last time. For some reason, he just knew that It was finally dead. That they’d finally defeated It. He briefly registered that Ben and Mike were crouching over the pile of dust that had been Pennywise just moments prior, but he could care less about that. His eyes zeroed in on Richie’s form, and with Eddie beside him, he bee-lined toward the lanky comedian. The moment he was close enough to get a proper look on Richie, Bill felt his heart caught in his throat. Growing up, Bill remembered that Richie had always been pale. He was always a shade lighter than everyone else. But the man lying in Beverly’s arms was even paler, his skin looked almost translucent.

Bill felt more than see Ben and Mike finally coming to join them. He was barely listening to Beverly telling them Richie was still breathing, that she could still feel his heartbeat, even though it was faint. Bill’s whole attention was set on Eddie, who was leaning over Richie, cupping his pale face with his hands as he pressed his forehead onto Richie’s. It took him awhile to realise that Eddie was speaking, his voice almost inaudible while his words came in a jumbled mess. It was until Bill had scooted closer to put a comforting hand on Eddie’s back, that he could finally hear what the youngest Loser was saying to their friend.

“Wake up. Please, wake up, Rich. You can’t… _Fuck,_ you can’t do this to me. You can’t leave me _again,_ you tall jerk. _Please, Richie._ Please, wake up. I _need_ you to wake up. I… _I_ need you. Wake up. Open your eyes. Look at me. Please. L-look at me, Chee.”

_(“Eddie, look! Eddie, look at me! Look at me!”)_

Eddie only reverted to calling Richie by his childhood nickname whenever he was feeling particularly stressed. And scared. Bill knew this really well. It was something he noticed a long time ago, and had discussed with Stanley with rather great details.

_("It's cute," Stanley had commented that day. There was a smirk on his face when he continued in a perfect immitation of Richie and cried, "Cute, cute, cute!")_

Someone was saying that they had to get out of there because the cave was going to fall down on them. It was Ben, and even through the shock-induced haze in his mind, Bill could sense the urgency in his voice. That snapped him back into focus. His friends needed him. They had to get out before the whole cave collapsed, trapping them down there forever. Bill immediately told Ben and Mike to carry Richie, because as the first and third tallest in their group, they were the only ones who could even lift Richie’s dead-weight. Eddie didn’t seem to realise what was happening though. When Bill tried to pull him off Richie so Ben and Mike could carry their friend, Eddie fought hard against him. He yelled and screamed and cried for Richie, hands reaching out toward the comedian as he struggled to break free from Bill’s grip. It was horrible. It took Beverly slapping him in the face for Eddie to finally come to his senses, and to realise what Ben and Mike were trying to do.

As if there was a switch, Eddie changed from a sobbing mess into a determined man with a mission. He ushered Ben and Mike toward the exit, urging them to move faster as he ran ahead of them to clear possible obstacles. Bill found it weird how the three of them could move so fast, seeing that two of them were carrying an unconscious grown-man who was over six feet tall and weighting around a hundred and eighty pounds. Bill even had to grab Beverly’s hand as he hastily dragged her along, to make sure she wouldn’t be left behind, because those three were moving faster than Bill thought should be possible. By the time all of them finally got out of Neibolt, Bill was incredibly out of breath and his leg-muscles were screaming from exhaustion. In fact, he was so exhausted he was sure he was dead on his feet, and he felt like sleeping right then and there on the street. But he knew he couldn’t rest yet. Not when Richie was still unconscious and on the brink of death.

Long story short, the six of them shoved themselves into Ben’s SUV, and with Beverly on the driver’s seat, they raced across town to get to Derry Hospital.

If any of them thought that by getting Richie to the hospital things would instantly turn uo for the better, which they did, they were sorely mistaken. They reached the hospital in record time, yelling at the doctors and nurses to help them. A flock of nurses came with a bed, which Ben and Mike quickly put Richie to lie down on. But then one of the nurses asked what had happened to Richie, and the Losers fell silent at the question. It wasn’t like they could say that they’d been fighting an alien clown before their now-unconscious friend sacrificed his life for them. In the end, they came up with a story about how they were checking up the old Neibolt house for old time’s sake, before it collapsed on them, with Richie being the only one who was hurt from getting hit in the head by a collapsing ceiling. Thankfully, the nurse accepted the story and quickly urged her colleagues to get a move on. They quickly rolled Richie into the ICU then, and Bill was barely quick enough to stop Eddie from going after them.

For the second time that day, Eddie fought hard against Bill’s hold. This time, he even went as far as decking Bill in the face with his elbow. But Eddie must be more exhausted than how he let himself feel because, after only a minute of struggling, he just… _stopped_. He sagged in Bill’s arms and started to cry again, although this time it was more of a sniffling one instead of a full out sob. Bill manouvered the both of them to sit down, keeping an arm around Eddie while his friend sobbed into the crook of his shoulder. It hadn’t been long when Beverly came with a doctor, who told them that Eddie might need to get his cheek checked out. At first, Eddie objected it vehemently, saying that he wanted to be there for when the doctor who took care of Richie came out. But again, he was probably so tired with everything that had happened, he finally agreed to follow the doctor once he promised that it would be quick. Bill counted it, and at exactly the fifteen minutes mark, Eddie came running back to the waiting room, his face now clean and his left cheek freshly bandaged.

“Has anyone said anything about Richie yet?” was the first thing Eddie said as he took his seat back beside Bill. Every single one of them was still covered in filth and sewer water, and Beverly was even drenched in _blood._ But none of them wanted to leave without hearing about Richie’s condition.

“No, they’re still in there,” Bill said. “But it’s only been half an hour, you know. It’s understandable if it takes some time.”

Eddie nodded despite the disappointed look in his eyes. “Right. Yeah, I suppose it’ll be a while.”

“He’ll be alright,” Beverly said as she sat on Eddie’s other side. She took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Richie is strong. He never backs down from a fight before. I know he’ll fight to come back to us. He _always_ fights for us.”

Bill remembered that. He remembered Richie was always ready to help them fight anyone who had messed with the Losers. He was stupidly loyal, and recklessly brave. That was what Stanley always said. Before Beverly and Ben and Mike joined them, it was all left to Stanley and Eddie to stop Bill and Richie from going head-first into whatever dumb adventure they’d come up with it. Even though people always saw it more as BillandStanley and RichieandEddie, it was always Richie that Bill turned to whenever he wanted to do something new and exciting and potentially-dangerous. And Richie would _always_ say yes. He was right there beside Bill the first time they checked the sewers for clues about Georgie. He was always there for Bill when he needed him. Bill remembered that the only time they didn’t see eye to eye was when Eddie broke his arm. The only time Richie would say no to Bill was when _Eddie’s life_ was in danger.

_(“Richie’s always extremely fond of Eddie. More than he is of us. That’s something you have to accept, Bill,” Stanley had said once, not long after Bill’s fight with Richie. At the time, he didn’t understand what his friend meant. He understood perfectly well now.)_

Richie had always been protective of Eddie. He always tried to protect Eddie with everything he had, even if it mean risking his own life.

They really should have seen it since ages ago. _Bill_ should have seen it ages ago.

“Did you see this, Bev?” Eddie asked, his question catching the only female Loser off her guard because he’d been silent for some time.

Beverly frowned a little. “What do you mean, hon?”

Eddie kept his eyes on his trembling hands when he answered her. “Did you see him _dying_ twenty seven years ago? When you got caught in the Deadlights? Have you ever dreamt of this before?”

“I… I uh…” Beverly stammered, paling a bit. She swallowed heavily before she spoke again. “It wasn’t…it wasn’t Richie that I saw dying in the cave. I-it was actually _you_ , Eddie.”

Eddie sucked in his breath harshly as his hands shook harder. But he plowed on. “H-how did it happen? How was...how was I supposed to die?”

When Beverly didn’t immediately answer Eddie, Bill knew that whatever her answer was, their youngest friend wouldn’t like it. Once, Beverly even stole a glance at Bill, and she looked like she was _begging_ Bill to help her from answering Eddie. But he didn’t know what to say himself. And, if he was to be honest with himself, Bill _wanted_ to know the answer. It felt like he _needed_ to know. So he shook his head discreetly, and hoped that Beverly would catch the apologetic smile he gave her. Fortunately, she seemed to understand. Taking a couple deep breaths to brace herself, Beverly finally opened her mouth.

“You died saving Richie,” Beverly answered, her voice calm and collected even though it was also rather faint. “After you threw that post at It to save Richie from the Deadlights. You tried to wake him up, didn’t you? That happened too in my vision. You yelled at him, shook his body to get him to wake up. And he did. He woke up. But then…” Here Beverly paused to let out a shaky breath. She looked down at her hands then, clenching them into fists. “Then, the c-clown impaled you. Its claw went straight through your chest. And then It f-flung you across the cave.”

“ _That’s_ what he saw,” Ben said, making a sound for the first time. He looked pale himself, his eyes widened in terror pretty much the same way Bill knew all of them did. “Richie saw Eddie died, and then he decided that he’d take his place.”

“So he made that deal with Pennywise,” Mike added. “But Richie probably knew that it wouldn’t be enough for us to win. He raised the stakes then, offered more than he should have, so that _all_ of us could walk out alive.”

_(“I’ll get us all out from this stupid town. I promise.”)_

_(“Richie has always been really fond of Eddie.”)_

“’My soul for your life’, that was what he’d said,” Eddie whispered as a new wave of tears rolled down his face, and Bill thought that he’d never seen his friend looked so broken. That was why when Eddie suddenly whipped his head toward Beverly, glaring furiously at her through his tears, Bill was dumbfounded.

“Eddie—“

“You _knew_ what was going to happen,” Eddie spat out, cutting Bill off. “You knew that Richie was going to get caught in the Deadlights. You could have prevented all of this from happening, but you _didn’t._ You kept quiet. You fucking kept quiet.”

“No, it’s not– Eddie, listen to me,“ Beverly practically begged, her own tears now falling profusely. “I swear, I didn’t know that it would happen like this. I- I didn’t think it would _actually_ happen.”

“ _Bullshit!_ You have _seen_ Stan died. You knew with terrifying details _how_ exactly he had died. So, forgive me for not believing that you didn’t know Richie was going to fucking die.”

“I _told_ you, I didn’t see him dying! It was _you_ that I saw dying in the sewer.”

“Oh, and that’s supposed to make me feel better? Thanks, Bev. Thanks so fucking much.”

“For fuck’s sake, that’s not what I meant! If you’d just listen to me first, you’d know that _all_ of us were supposed to die today. We should have _lost,_ Eddie. You died in the sewer, then Richie died just outside of Neibolt. Then it was Bill in the townhouse, and Ben—“

“That doesn’t change anything! If you’d known we could have died, you should have stopped us from ever coming down that fucking sewer in the first plac. Fuck, what is _wrong_ with you? We shouldn’t have gotten down there in the first place.”

“But then we’d be haunted by the fucking clown for the rest of our lives! I told you twenty seven years ago that I would rather run toward something. Not fucking run away like a coward, _Edward._ ”

“You’re so lucky you’re a fucking girl, Bev. Or else I would have punched you right now.”

“That’s fucking sexist. We all know that I can whoop your ass and make you cry like a little bi—“

“Uh, excuse me?” a doctor said, effectively shutting up both Eddie and Beverly. “Are you all here for Richard Tozier? I’m Dr Foley, by the way. I’m Mr Tozier’s doctor.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Eddie quickly said. “We’re here for Richie. How is he?”

The doctor, who looked like she was at least a decade younger than any of the Losers, eyed Eddie for a moment before she spoke. “Which one of you is his family? Because we can only disclose anything about Mr Tozier to his family.”

Panic immediately began to set in Bill, and he knew the same applied to the rest of them. As far as they all knew, Richie had no one else in his life. He was an only child, and both Wentworth and Maggie had died not long after Richie left Derry for college. Bill was halfway from coming up with an elaborate lie about how Richie was his cousin, hoping that the doctor didn’t know who both of them really were, when Ben easily gave the most convenient lie of all time.

“Eddie’s his fiance,” Ben said calmly, giving the doctor a charming smile. “That counts as family, right?”

Foley blinked once, her eyes darting between Eddie, who was blushing furiously, and back to Ben. “Well, yes, of course. But we weren’t aware that Mr Tozier—“

“Is gay?” Beverly said coolly in Richie’s defense. “Yeah, he’s not out yet. Not that it’s your business.”

“Um, that’s right. Of course. Yes.”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Bill spat out, glaring at the doctor in both Richie _and_ Eddie’s defense. “Is Richie being gay going to get him kicked out from this hospital?”

“Because if it is, we can sue you for discrimination and hate crime,” Ben added, tone still as calm as before, even as a hard look started to settle in his eyes.

“No, no, no. Of course not,” Foley hastily said, shaking her head as she made a quick scan on her notes. “Well um… You said that Mr Tozier got hit in the head? So we went to treat that one first. Fortunately, he wasn’t concussed. There was no blood clot in his head, not even a swelling. In fact, he was actually quite alright.”

“But?” Eddie said. “I sensed a but in there, doc. What’s wrong with him?”

The doctor pursed her lips, looking like she was forming her next words carefully. “We can’t wake him up. Although all of his organs work fine, he just...he just won’t wake up.”

The choked sob Eddie let out then was a sound Bill knew would haunt him for the next few days.

* * *

_Rich? Richie, are you there?_

_Stan? Is that…is that really you?_

_Well, of course. Who else would willingly keep you company like this?_

_You’re hilarious, Stanniel. You should be the comedian._

_Then you’d be out of job, Rich._

_Touché… Where are we, by the way? What are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining._

_We’re inside your head, dummy. And I’m here trying to keep you from moving on. Turns out it’s my turn to save your ass._

_You mean, I’m not dead yet?_ You’re _not dead either?_

_Nope. We’re surprisingly hard to kill. Rather resilient like cockroaches._

_Heh. Two jokes in under a minute, Stan. That’s a record._

_Shut up, dickwad. Be serious for a sec. We need to figure out how to wake you up._

_Well, if you don’t know how, I don’t think I can offer much help._

_Don’t worry. I’m coming to save you, Tozier. Just hold on for a little longer. Eddie’s waiting for you._


	3. Stan the Man to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took about two and a half hours to fly from Georgia to Bangor. Then there was another half hour from the airport to the hospital in fucking Derry—where Richie was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter took awhile. I had a thesis due on February, and then there's also the fact that I stupidly have about ten other unfinished stories. I really have no self-control *sighs* Anyway, please tell me what do you think about this chapter, guys :D

It took about two and a half hours to fly from Georgia to Bangor. Then there was another half hour from the airport to the hospital in _fucking Derry—_ where Richie was. Stanley was grateful that Patty had insisted to come along, despite his initial reluctance to let her to come with him. With his mind going nearly mad in worry, he didn’t think he could stand being alone for three to four hours. Then again, Patty seemed to always know what was best for him. The day he bumped into her in college when he was on his way to class was definitely one of the best days in his life—if not _the_ best. Stanley wouldn’t know where he would be if he didn’t have Patty.

_You’d probably be dead, dummy,_ the Richie in his head answered. _You’d be dead from the cuts on your wrists if Patty hadn’t been around to find you and patch you up just before you ran out of blood._

_Fuck off, Rich. Which one between the two of us who’s_ actually _dying right now?_

_I missed you too, Stanthony._

Stanley swore he could almost hear Richie’s familiar giggle out loud.

“Stan, honey, have you called your friends yet?” Patty said, pulling Stanley out of his telepathic conversation with Richie. They were about ten minutes away from the hospital.

“Uh, no,” Stanley said, flinching when Patty shot him a reprimanding glare. “What am I supposed to tell them, anyway? ‘Hey, assholes. It’s me, Stan the Man. So, funny story; I’m not actually dead? My wife patched me up before I could bleed to death. The woman you talked to on the phone, who said I’d died? Yes, that’s just Pennywise shitting with you. By the way, I’m on my way there to save Richie’s stupid ass because he’s a self-sacrificing jerk.’”

_Jesus, where were all these gold-material jokes when we were growing up, Stan? Fuck, can I hire you to be my ghost writer? Interested?_

“You can’t fucking afford me, numbnut.”

“Excuse me?”

Patty cocked an eyebrow at Stanley, and only then did he realise he’d said that out loud. He gave her a sheepish smile and wished that she would still believe him after what he was going to say next. “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t talking to you, love. You see, I’ve been…having Richie talking to me in my head,” he said, the whole time cursing a still-giggling Richie in his head.

“The same Richie we’re flying across the country for because you’re going to figure out how to save his life?” There was a slight, confused frown on Patty’s face that made her looked incredibly adorable to Stanley.

_Cute cute cute!_

_Shut up, Rich._

“Yeah, the same one. Remember me telling you that we’re connected now? Because the fucking clown bit me twenty seven years ago, and Richie spent a hundred years in the Deadlights. So yeah, I’ve been using that connection keep Richie from…passing on.”

_Wow, that was very informative, Stan._

“Wait. Hold up for a sec, I’m a little lost here,” Patty said, still with a frown on her pretty face. Once again, Richie giggled obnoxiously in Stanley’s head.

_In other words, you fucking suck._

_For the last time, fuck off._

Patty looked at him closely then, as if by doing so, she could see Richie inside Stanley’s head. “Are you…are you having a conversation in your head with Richie at the moment?”

Stanley nodded. “Uh, yeah. Sorry if I wasn’t making sense before.”

“Yeah, you really didn’t. I have no idea what you were talking about.”

_See? I fucking told you._

Stanley sighed, and for the umpteenth time since he decided to come clean to Patty, he felt completely drained—mind, body and soul. “Alright, I’m sorry about that. Let’s try this again… What do you want to know, Pat? Where do we start?”

Patty gave him a supportive smile as she reached out to hold Stanley’s hand for the support they both knew he needed. “How about from the beginning? What’s happened to Richie? What the exactly are the Deadlights? And a _clown?_ Also, did you say _a hundred years_?”

_Fuck, how do I explain all of that to her? I can’t tell all that by myself._

_Just keep is short and simple. Save the detailed version when we’re with the gang later._

_Right. Leave the heavy stuff to Bill and Mike to explain._

_Atta boy, Staniel._

“Everyone the clown touched became connected, I suppose,” Stanley began, willing Patty to be patient with him with his eyes. “When Richie and I were thirteen, we fought a monster that killed our friend’s brother. There were five others, so there were seven of us in a total. We called ourselves the Losers. And the monster that killed Bill’s brother was actually a murderous alien that took the form of what we feared the most, but in general, It usual took the form of a creepy clown named Pennywise. Before we defeated It for the first time, our friend Beverly got kidnapped and was stuck in this thing called the Deadlights. She was trapped in a limbo sort of thing, where she saw our deaths over and over again. Then I got bitten just before we saved her and defeated the clown, and I guess I kind of looked into the Deadlights too. With me so far, love?”

“Not really, but it’s sort of better than your first try,” Patty said, nodding her head a little. “I mean, this is all bizarre and rather insane, but for some reason I kind of believe you? You have always been a little weird, to be honest.”

_You have a cool wife, Stan. I like her._

Stanley ignored Richie and continued his story. “Right then. Okay. Now, twenty seven years later, exactly a day ago, all of them tried to kill Pennywise once and for all. That was when Richie got caught in the Deadlights, and he saw It killed our friend Eddie. But then the clown offered to let Eddie live if It could keep Richie’s soul instead. Richie agreed, on the condition that _all_ of our friends could live. Pennywise took the deal, and It tortured Richie for a hundred years. You see, time worked differently in the Deadlights. One second in real life could be a day in the Dealights, or a year, or a hundred years.”

“And that’s how Richie went through a hundred years of torture,” Patty whispered, her eyes wide in terror as she imagined the pain Richie endured. Letting out a shaky breath, Stanley saw she had tears in her eyes. Tears for _Stanley’s friend,_ someone she had never met.

Stanley felt like falling in love with her all over again.

_Aw, she’s crying. Stan, tell your wife don’t cry. It’s really not that bad._

_You’re fucking lying._

They both knew Richie was lying. Because Stanley could still hear the way Richie cried in pain when It hurt his soul, the way he begged for relief when he was shown Eddie’s death over and over again, the way the clown taunted him for his every tear.

_(“No, no, no, no. Don’t—Eddie! Eddie, wake up! Please! Please, wake up—AH! STOP IT! PLEASE, STOP! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! I C-CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE. JUST—JUST FUCKING KILL ME_ PLEASE!”)

_(“Ah, ah, ah! No backsies, Richie! You remember that, didn’t you? I’m going hurt you till the end of time, and then some more. It’ll be just the two of us, Rich._ Forever. _”)_

_You’re so stupid, Rich. So fucking stupid._

_I know. But I’d do it all over again if it meant saving all of you._

“How did It die? H-how did your friends defeated Pennywise?” Patty asked. She had one hand squeezing Stanley’s, and her gentle touch was enough to soothe not only Stanley’s nerves, but he knew Richie could feel it as well. It helped him to focus back on his story.

“Eddie somehow figured out that they had to scare Pennywise until It was literally and figuratively small. He did just that, and the rest of the Loser followed suit. Richie was unconscious, and at that point, for all our friends knew, they’d already lost me. They used the sorrow they felt to fuel their anger when they attacked the clown. However, just before they dealt the killing blow, It threw a last ditch attempt to save Itself. It told them, told _Eddie,_ that if they killed It, they were going to kill Richie too. Richie wasn’t having it though. Somehow, he managed to use the clown’s power to hold It from attacking our friends, and to contact Eddie telepathically. He convinced Eddie to kill Pennywise no matter what, even though he knew there was a big chance that he really could have died. Eddie wouldn’t do it at first, _no one_ was going to do it. But they saw how Richie was suffering, and that did it for Eddie.”

“So they killed It?” Patty asked, to which Stanley gave a nod as a respond. “But, Richie didn’t… _die,_ right? We’re going to save him right now.”

“Well, that _is_ the plan. I just...” Stanley trailed off and allowed himself to to be honest and admit his worry. “To be honest? I’m not quite sure _how_ exactly am I supposed to save Richie.”

_If it involves sacrificing_ anyone, _you can forget it, Stan. I won’t allow it._

Whatever response Stanley wanted to throw at Richie’s _dumb_ stubbornness, disappeared from his mind the moment he realised that he’d arrived at the hospital. He was finally going to meet his friends. After twenty years, he was going to finally see them. When Stanley cut his wrists after Mike called him, Pennywise wasn’t the only reason why he’d done it. Unlike the rest of them, Stanley’s memories of the Losers were much better. He might not remember every single thing about his childhood, but he remembered enough. He remembered that he had friends who he loved more than anything in the world, friends who he worried would be mad if they had ever found out the fact that he hadn’t really forgotten everything. They would _hate_ him. He’d made a promised, and then like the coward he always was, he had bailed on them. Stanley was about to change his mind, to tell the taxi driver to take him back to Bangor Airport, when he felt Patty’s encouraging hand in his.

“Come on,” Patty said. “Let’s see your _family._ I want you to properly introduce us all.”

Stanley let out a heavy sigh and nodded. Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, they walked hand in hand to where the receptionist was to ask for Richie’s room. He was a little taken aback when they wouldn’t tell him where Richie was unless he could prove he really knew the man who was his _bestest friend_ since they were in diapers. Apparently, it took only a day for people to remember that born-and-raised Richie Tozier was the same person as America’s most scandalous comedian. People left and right had been claiming to be the friends and family of Richie’s. In the end, Stanley had no choice but to tell them to get Mike Hanlon so the man could confirm Stanley’s identity. About five minutes had passed while someone went to get Mike, and Stanley spent it tapping his fingers restlessly in a rhythm that he knew drove Patty crazy even though she didn’t say it. Stanley felt Mike’s presence rather than saw or heard it. And Mike wasn’t alone.

_“Stanley?”_ Bill’s shocked gasp sounded like a yell instead as it rang loudly in the room. The writer was looking at Stanley in disbelief, those blue eyes of his were wide as he walked ahead of Mike.

“Hello, Bill,” Stanley said in a quiet tone, waving his hand shyly.

A broken sob escaped Bill’s lips, and the next thing Stanley knew was his arms were suddenly full of his best friend. It didn’t take long before Stanley found himself also crying as he clung to Bill’s shorter form. Stanley’s mind kept on repeating that Bill was there, that he was finally with Stanley. It had been over two decades since they last met, and Stanley felt like his heart was going to burst. Stanley loved all the Losers dearly, but he wouldn’t ever deny the fact that Bill and Richie and Eddie would always have a special place in his heart. They were his _oldest_ friends after all. It felt like his soul was healing the moment he wrapped his arms around Bill, and Stanley could only imagine how it would feel to see Richie and Eddie again.

“Y-y-you’re alive,” Bill whispered, face still buried into the crook of Stanley’s neck. He looked up at Stanley then, his blue eyes were running over Stanley’s features hungrily, and there was a huge smile on his face. “Oh my G-G- _God, you’re alive!”_

“I am,” Stanley breathed out. He pressed his forehead against Bill’s because he didn’t think he could bear it if they were to part again. “I am here, Bill. I’m here, I’m here, _I’m here.”_

“B-B-Bev said y-you’re dead. S-s-she said you k-k-k-killed yourse- _fuck!-_ yourself.”

“I _did_ try to do that, under Pennywise’s influence. But I didn’t die. What Bev heard on the phone was a trick the clown did.”

Bill let out another sob before he hugged Stanley tighter. “Fuck that clown.”

Snorting out a laugh, Stanley said, “Yeah, fuck that fucking clown.”

He had no idea how much time was spent with him and Bill clinging to one another. He didn’t even remember where he was anymore, or that there were people around them. It was only when he felt a tap on his shoulder that he realised what he and Bill had been doing. Sheepishly, he pulled back a bit from Bill, but kept one arm still around the man. Mike was the one who had tapped his shoulder, an understanding smile on his face. When Stanley’s eyes landed on Patty standing behind Mike, he instantly felt guilty. While he didn’t love Bill the way Richie and Eddie loved each other, it was no secret that they were each other’s favourite. Bill understood Stanley in a way not even Richie, who was arguably his best and oldest friend, could ever do. Stanley also liked to think he was the one Bill trusted the most, even though he knew Eddie far longer. Bill was Stanley’s special Loser, just like Richie was Eddie’s. This was just some common secret between the Losers, something that everyone accepted readily and easily.

But Stanley wasn’t sure that the same applied to Patty.

“Patty,“ he began awkwardly, his heart beating about a mile a minute in his chest. He gestured at Bill with a wave of his hand, who he noticed had a slight blush on his face. “This is um– this is Bill Denbrough. He is… He is my…”

“I understand,” Patty said when Stanley trailed off, her voice just as soft and as understanding as the night when she found Stanley bleeding by the cuts on his wrists. “You told me everything, remember? I know how important Bill is to you. And I can see that. I may be the love of your life, but Bill’s your _soul mate_.”

_(“I promise, Bill.”)_

If he ever thought that he’d ever fall out of love for Patty, which he would _never_ do, then Stanley was sorely mistaken _and_ an absolute idiot.

“Thank you,” Stanley said, cupping Patty’s face so he could pull her closer and give her a quick kiss. The shy smile she gave him was positively breath-taking.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Bill,” Patty said once she turned her attention to the writer. Bill nodded, a beaming smile on his handsome face.

“Nice to meet you too, Patty. I only wish it was under better circumstances,” Bill replied, and instantly, Stanley was violently reminded _why_ exactly they were there.

And chills ran down his spine as he realised that it had been _too quiet_ in his head.

_Richie? Richie, are you there?_

Stanley waited for several seconds, but silence was his only answer.

_Goddammit, Rich, come on! Don’t fucking do this to me!_

Again, there was no answer, and he was starting to panic.

_Richie! Richie, come back! RICHIE TOZIER! RICHIE, COME BACK! DAMMIT!_

“Darling, is something wrong?” Patty asked, her blue eyes searching deep into his own brown ones. He noticed that both Bill and Mike were looking at him in the same way, responding to his apparent distress that no doubt was shown clearly on his face.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself a bit, Stanley replied, “It’s Richie. I- I think… I think he’s done something stupid. _Again._ ”

“W-w-what do you mean—“

“I can’t— _he’s gone, Patty,”_ Stanley chocked out, cutting off Bill’s question as he felt himself started to hyperventilate. “I… I can’t _feel_ him anymore. I can’t fucking feel him, Patty. He’s gone. _Richie’s gone._ ”

* * *

_Richie had always known that he wouldn’t live a long and happy life. He always knew that since the day he decided to keep his feelings for Eddie a secret and take it to his grave. For there was no happiness in his life without Eddie, and there was no point of living his life without Eddie. Despite his loud insistence that he didn’t want to die in Derry, he knew that was what would happen. And he was fine with it. He was always ready to die for his friends, and even more so for Eddie. That was why he readily accepted Pennywise’s bargain. He would do anything for them. He always would._

_When Pennywise got distracted from the Losers’ attacks and Its torture on Richie lessened, the comedian watched with his tired and battered soul as the clown tried to change his friends’ mind to save Its stinking ass. Tried to trick his friends into letting It lived by using Richie. That was the last straw for him. Somehow, he used the telepathic bond he had with It to keep the clown on a figurative leash so It wouldn’t deceive his friends anymore. Doing that drained him, unsurprisingly. Whatever left of his soul was ripped to pieces the longer he tried to use Its power against Itself._

_But Richie pushed on. He reached out to Eddie, and was beyond ecstatic when his best friend answered. The new bond he created with Eddie felt different to him, like a gentle caress. So different compared to how Pennywise’s felt like a furious bite. Richie didn’t waste his time though, and went on to convince Eddie to kill Pennywise anyway, regardless of the consequences. And Richie was punished for it._ Severely. _The clown was livid for what Richie tried to do. But he didn’t care. He had to save Eddie. He had to save his friends. He had to save them all._

_So, fighting with all his might through the unbearable pain, he begged Eddie to do it. To kill Pennywise, to end everything once and for all. He was immensely relieved when Eddie finally relented. It was over. It was finally over. Richie had done his part, and he was ready to…_ move on. _But then Stanley came and told him to wait because he was going to save Richie. Stanley, whom Richie thought had died. Stanley, his oldest friend who was always there to look out for him. Stanley, who always knew what to do._

_Richie should have known better though. This time, Stanley couldn’t help him. He knew that. Richie knew that. Stanley had no idea what they should do—because there really was_ nothing _anyone could do. Even if there was, Richie would bet his next life that it would mean sacrificing someone else. And Richie wasn’t having it. The point of him sacrificing himself was so no one else would have to suffer. Richie had no one. He had nothing to lose. So it should be him. It had to be him._

_And so, without saying goodbye because he knew Stanley would say no, Richie let go._

_And moved on._


	4. Sleep When You're Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For as long as Eddie knew him, Richie had always protected him from everything. That was how they met after all, back when they were six years old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! The end of this story. Well, not exactly. I plan on having an epilogue, so I suppose there'll be one more chapter. It will be quite short, so hopefully, it won't take too long. This chapter is far longer than the previous ones, hence why it took sometime to post. I really do hope it's worth the wait. Tell me what you think about this story, okay :)

For as long as Eddie knew him, Richie had always protected him from everything. That was how they met after all, back when they were six years old. It was during spring break, and Eddie was sitting all by himself on a swing at a playground, waiting for Bill to come play with him as they’d promised, when Victor Criss pushed him off it. Eddie landed harshly on his knee, hard enough to cause it to bleed. But it wasn't the pain or the sight of the blood running down his leg that brought him to tears. It was the thought of his mother never allowing him out of the house anymore for that injury. To Criss though, it was tears all the same, and that made Eddie an even tastier victim to torment. The bigger and older boy leaned forward then, a malicious smirk on his face as he pulled his hand back in preparation for the beating he was going to give Eddie.

Every fiber of Eddie’s little body screamed at him to move, to get out of the way of that big, filthy fist. He couldn’t though. He couldn’t even blink, couldn’t even breathe. He was too paralysed with fear. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as Eddie watched Criss’ fist coming closer to his face. He was going to get punched. He was sure of it. He was going to get punched, and then his Ma would lock him away forever. Eddie was sure that the fist was only an inch away from his face when he saw a flash of green and blue, and someone pushed Criss off him.

“ _Go, go, go, go!”_ a voice urged Eddie as he felt two skinny arms slid around his waist and roughly pulled him onto his feet. “Come on! Move those short legs and _run!”_

Eddie didn’t waste anymore time. Blindly gripping the hand that had found his first, he ran as fast as his short, six-years-old legs could carry him. He heard Criss yelled something at him, but he ignored him and kept on running. Eddie didn’t even pay much attention to his rescuer, who was still holding Eddie’s hand tightly as they ran away from Criss. He only saw pale skin under thick, black curls, and _huge_ coke-bottle glasses. They probably didn’t run for too long, but for Eddie, whose mother rarely let him out of bed let alone going for a run, it felt like forever. When they finally stopped, it was so abrupt that Eddie ended up running into into the back of his rescuer. The impact would have sent Eddie sprawling on the ground, but thankfully, his rescuer was quick enough to catch him before he fell, pulling on his hand hard to prevent his fall.

Leaving Eddie with no choice but to collide right against his rescuer’s chest.

“I got you! Don’t worry!” his rescuer said, with one arm now wrapped around Eddie. “I got you, buddy. I promise.”

Ever since that day, Richie Tozier _always_ got Eddie. He was always there for Eddie, making sure that he was safe from anything and anyone that would harm him, from It to Henry Bowers to even his mother _._ Regardless of the consequences, Richie would fight tooth and nail to keep Eddie not only safe, but also _happy._

And even with the twenty-something years that they'd lost, Richie kept his promise.

But now, Eddie really wished he hadn’t.

_(Fuck you, Rich. Fuck you, you self-sacrificing idiot.)_

* * *

“So…he’s not dead, is he?”

“Yes, he’s still alive. Technically.”

“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?”

“It means that his body functions normally like a living person, but he’s just… _not there._ ”

“Can someone please fucking explain it to me in plain and simple English? Because he’s still breathing as we speak, and that fucking machine keeps on beeping to his heartbeat.”

Stanley let out sigh, and Eddie felt a weird sense of de javu as he watched his friend pinched the bridge of his nose, looking very much the same way he did back when they were kids and he was trying to not lose his temper because Eddie couldn’t understand a simple physics homework. Eddie always found it funny that despite his aloof mannerism, Stanley was a better teacher than Richie by miles. Sure, everyone and their mother knew that Richie was the genius between the four of them. But because of his ADHD, his brain always moved in a much faster speed than most people did, and although Eddie was the self-proclaimed expert on Tozier language, even he found it hard to understand his best friend when he was explaining academic stuff. Thus, as the second smartest in their group, it was always left to Stanley to teach Eddie and sometimes Bill about subjects they struggled with. Of course, Richie would often throw in a comment or two, or even criticise Stanley’s explanation if he was feeling like a dick. Every time he did that, they would all Beep-Beeped him, and Richie would cackle like a maniac in return.

This time though, Eddie knew no one would Beep-Beeped Richie if he suddenly woke up and helped Stanley explained his ridiculous theory.

“I think he’s still in there, stuck,” Stanley finally said, a grim look on his face.

“Stuck where?” Bill asked, finally making a sound after letting Stanley and Eddie discussed Richie’s condition for over an hour.

Stanley looked almost broken when he took a quick glance at Richie, his hazel eyes filled with tears before he whispered, “The Deadlights.”

Eddie’s breath faltered at the same time he heard Bill let out a string of curses. The three of them were the only ones left who waited on Richie while the other Losers plus Patty had gone back to the Town House for the night. They were the original Losers, and that reminder made them reluctant to leave each other’s presence. Not after being separated for almost three decades. It had always been them against the world for the longest time. They had a different and stronger bond between them, something that the other three Losers didn’t have. They understood though, so everyone kindly left the three of them to keep watch on Richie, and headed to the Town House.

When Stanley came into Richie’s room with Bill and Mike, exactly a day after Neibolt, Eddie knew that he should rejoice the fact that his best friend was alive after all. That was what a _good_ friend should do. But with Richie being in a coma with no hint about when he was going to wake up, Eddie had his priorities on other things. He was glad that Stanley was alive, _of course._ However, there was a part of him that was dead set on believing that the only reason Stanley was alive and well was because Richie had traded places with him. In the deepest, darkest corner of Eddie’s mind, a part of him that he knew wasn’t as good as Richie always believed him to be was blaming _Stanley_ for Richie’s condition. So, naturally, when Stanley finally told them of his theory about what happened to Richie, Eddie didn’t take it well. He _refused_ to accept it, even.

Because accepting it meant that he would have to hate Stanley.

And Richie might believe it was the other way around, but Eddie knew he was the rotten one between the two of them. That he was awful enough a person to do that to Stanley.

_(“I’m not… I don’t think I’m as good as you think I am, Chee. I am sick. I… There’s a part of me that’s always rotten.”)_

_(“That’s fucking bullshit, Eds. You’re the best person I’ve ever known, period. If anyone’s rotten, that would be me. Everyone knows that. I’m the fucking Trashmouth, remember?”)_

Eddie would always regret the day he came up with the nickname for his best friend.

“Why d-d-do you think so?” Bill asked Stanley again, bringing Eddie’s attention back to him. There was an annoyed look on Bill's face at his own slip up. He took a few deep breaths then, and when he spoke next, he managed to control his stutter. “I mean, we killed It. And that g-goes for the Deadlights too, right?”

“The Deadlights is a whole different entity, I think. Closely linked to It, but not exactly the same. Killing It _does_ mean we destroyed the Deadlights too. But it affects Richie differently.”

“So, It wasn’t bluffing then. When Pennywise said that k-killing It would mean killing Richie—“

“ _No,_ ” Eddie spat, shaking his head excessively because he just _couldn’t_ take it. Glaring at his two oldest friends, he continued. “Richie’s _not_ dead. You said it yourself, Stan. You said you had Richie in your head, and that you two were conversing. That means he’s very much alive. He’s alive. I _know_ he is. He can’t be dead. He just _can’t._ Not after everything we’ve been through. I won’t… I won’t allow it. Richie’s not going anywhere. _No one_ is taking him away from me anymore.”

“Eddie, calm down,” Stanley said as he carefully put one hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “ _Breathe._ You’re hyperventilating. Come on; do it with me. Four breaths in, four breaths out. Come on, Eddie.”

Truthfully, he hadn’t realised he was having a panic attack until Stanley was helping him with his breathing. A part of Eddie, the ridiculous part of him, was tempted to _not_ let Stanley helped him. It was always Richie who did it. Richie who carried his spare inhaler with him until they found out it was all just a fucking placebo. Richie who then spent a week in the library, trying to find a book that would tell him how to help Eddie. Letting Stanley help him felt like betraying Richie; as if _breathing_ was a special thing between the two of them. Eddie quickly reprimanded himself though, and started to do his breathing exercise. He couldn’t afford passing out now, not when he had Richie to think about.

“Thanks, Stan,” Eddie said after awhile. His heartbeat still thundered against his ribs, but it was significantly calmer than before. “I’m okay now. I really am.”

Stanley smiled and nodded his head. “Good.That’s good. And Eddie, no one wants Richie to die, okay? _No one._ None of us believe that he _is_ going to die either. But you have to accept that he isn’t exactly with us. I can’t explain, but I think that’s the first step to saving him.”

“Okay. I can do that. Anything for Richie.”

Because Richie would do anything for him.

“Stan, do you think there’s a reason why Pennywise chose Richie?” Bill asked, a contemplative look on his face. Eddie knew that it was his obvious attempt to focus Eddie’s mind, and he was thankful for it.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked as he forced his mind to stop panicking mindlessly and instead started to join his friends brainstorming for a way to wake Richie up.

Bill gave a slight shrug then, his lips pursed in that familiar way he always did when he came up with something groundbreaking. “Is it just because he was convenient at the time? That he was distracting It from hurting Mike? Or is there another reason? I mean, considering that Beverly said she’d seen in the Deadlights that something like this would happen, it only makes sense to assume that Pennywise knew too, right?”

“Huh. I never thought about it like that.” There was a frown on Stanley’s face as he considered Bill’s words, his head tilted to the side in a manner that was almost bird-like. It was almost a full minute later when Stanley turned his attention to Eddie.

“What is it?” Eddie said, wary all of the sudden.

“Did Richie ever tell you what happened during that summer we fought? He was the only one of us who really distanced himself from everyone else. And he was never really the same after that. It was like something had changed.”

Stanley was right. Something did change about Richie after his fight with Bill. He took up smoking from Beverly, which was the point when the two became incredibly close until the day Beverly moved out to Portland with her aunt. That was when Richie started to drink, stealing his alcohol from his father’s cabinet. Eddie remembered Richie’s changes clearly, even if it had been years. But most importantly, Eddie remembered that after they defeated Pennywise for the first time, that was the day Richie stopped touching him. Growing up, they had always been overly affectionate with each other, despite their constant screaming matches. All of the Losers knew that Richie was a touchy person; always had an arm around Bill, or draping his long legs over Stanley’s, or pinching Eddie’s cheeks fondly. Ever since that summer, Richie always made sure that he at least had an extra inch from everyone else.

_Everyone else but Beverly._

“I’m afraid we should ask Beverly that,” Eddie said, doing all his might to push the jealousy he felt at the thought of someone else knowing Richie better than himself. Even if it was his own best friend.

“Oh, yeah. Now that you mentioned it, they did get very close after that summer,” Bill quipped, fucking oblivious as he always was, much to Eddie’s dismay. “Both Ben and I got super jealous for sometime about it. It was around that time when she’d often stay over at his place, right— _ow, what the hell, Uris?”_

Stanley scowled at Bill, giving the writer a pointed glare that took Bill a while to understand. By the time Bill’s eyes widened in realisation, Eddie almost chuckled at the hilarity of it all. Even after all these years, Bill could be both the most observant _and_ obtuse person in their little family. It was nice to know that not much had changed about their dearest Big Bill.

“Sorry, Eddie,” Bill said sheepishly, to which Eddie replied with a small smile.

“It’s fine. We all know how insensitive you can be, Bill.”

“Hey, I resent that! I _can_ be sensitive, you know.”

“Nah, you really can’t. Even between the four of us, you’re the least sensitive prick I know.”

“Is that so, _Mr Sensitive_? Well, fuck off, you—“

“What did the clown say again?” Stanley said in a worryingly grim tone, cutting their friendly argument effectively as he looked tensely between Eddie and Bill.

“You have to be specific, Stan. Pennywise said a lot of shit. It always did,” Bill replied.

Stanley turned to Eddie for the second time that night. “After Richie first contacted you through the psychic link, It said something, didn’t It? It said—“

“’I was right all along to choose you, Richie,’” Eddie supplied, his eyes widening as realisation dawned on him. “Holy _fuck!_ Bill! You’re right! Pennywise _did_ choose Richie for a reason!”

Bill frowned, clearly still at lost. “And that reason is?”

“Richie’s always more sensitive than anyone of us,” Stanley answered. “Despite all the shit that comes out of his mouth, he _always_ listens. And Richie is observant, much more than we ever gave him credit for. He understands us better than even ourselves. He cares so much and loves too much. And _that_ makes him vulnerable to Pennywise.”

“Why though?” Bill asked again. “I thought Pennywise’s thing is fear. I thought that was what attracted him the most.”

“Richie’s biggest fear is to be forgotten, Bill,” Eddie said in a small voice, his mind going back to how hysterical Richie was when he saw the Missing Posters. “Don’t you remember that? He fears being forgotten because that means no one cares about him as much as he cares about everyone else.”

“ _Fucking hell,”_ Bill breathed, looking positively horrified. He threw a glance at Richie’s unconscious form sadly, pity shone clearly in his eyes as he ran a tired hand through his hair. “But…that still doesn’t explain why Pennywise targeted him specifically. Why Richie? Why didn’t It choose _me?_ I mean, it was my brother that It killed.”

“Because Richie’s the only who would agree to play with Its games to save us all,” Stanley answered quietly, his tone breaking a little at the end. “Pennywise needed constant attention, and Richie's the only one between the seven who would do that if he believes it'll protect us. It knew that if It dangled Richie’s fear in his face, manipulated him enough to belief that his fear _was_ legitimate, then Richie would snatch Its offer without second thoughts. If it were your sacrifice, I bet you’d still fight Pennywise because that's what you always do. You fight the people you think are threatening your loved ones. But not Richie. If he thinks that it’ll save us all, he’ll let Pennywise do anything to him.”

Bill was quiet for some time as he processed Stanley’s words. He had an unreadable look on his face, although his eyes remained sharp as he stared ahead unseeingly. When Bill’s gaze slowly moved toward Eddie’s hand, which was still clasped around Richie’s, something changed in his eyes. It made Eddie flinch when Bill turned to look at Eddie, because the writer now had a look of understanding as he looked straight at Eddie, his bright blue eyes looked deeply into Eddie’s as if he could see right into Eddie’s soul. That was one thing that Eddie hated about Bill. He might be selectively dense as fuck, but once he put his mind onto something, Bill could read _anyone_ like an open book.

“What?” Eddie said meekly, already feeling restless under Bill’s gaze.

Bill shook his head, a sad smile tugging on his lips. “I think you’re wrong. Richie’s biggest fear isn’t being forgotten. His biggest fear is you _dying,_ Eddie. It always has been.”

Eddie felt his eyes widen as he shook his head in disbelief. “ _Excuse me?_ That’s— _no._ That can’t be Richie’s fear. We saw how he was when we first went to Neibolt. He was practically hysterical! I- I can’t be… That’s…”

“ _Eddie,”_ Bill said, his voice had taken that soft tone he used to use on Georgie when the boy was being stubborn. “Pennywise could have given that offer to Richie when It attacked any of us. But no; It waited until the moment It could use _you_ to lure Richie into trusting It. Besides, there was a moment in Neibolt that first time when you weren’t there. It used you to separate Richie from me. Then It used you _again_ to render Richie petrified with fear by showing your decapitated head. It was you, Eddie. It _always_ has been you.”

“But—“

“Fucking hell, man. He fucking punched me _for you_. Because I nearly got you killed. Never mind that Ben’s stomach was bleeding. He always cares about you more than he cares about the rest of us. We all know that. Shit, I think even _Bowers_ knew about it. 'Caus your mum surely did."

Eddie opened and closed his mouth, trying to argue Bill’s points. But the more he tried to find something to say, the more he realised how true Bill was. He went back to all his interactions with Richie since the day they first met, and it was like a fog was finally cleared from his mind. He saw it now. He _understood._

_(“Eddie, look! Eddie, look at me! Look at me!”)_

Richie, at age six, protecting Eddie from Victor Criss for the first time even before they knew each other. Richie, at age seven, pushing him out of the way of a basketball that someone threw at Eddie so that it hit Richie instead. Richie, at age nine, covering for Eddie when he ripped Rabbi Uris’ precious Torah. Richie, at age ten, turning Bowers’ attention from Eddie that the bully ended up beating Richie into a pulp. Richie, at age twelve, sneaking into Eddie’s room for the first time after he admitted he hated being alone at night. Richie, at age thirteen, doing all his best to protect Eddie from Pennywise. Richie, at age fifteen, silently accepted Sonia Kaspbrak’s yelling when she accused Richie of corrupting her son. Richie, at age sixteen, beating up an asshole who called Eddie a girly boy and only stopped until Mike pulled him off the bully.

Richie, at age eighteen, trying with all his might to make Eddie laugh even though everyone could see the thought of moving away was killing him, even if it got him out of Derry.

“ _Oh my God,”_ Eddie whispered, tears blurring his eyes when he looked down at Richie’s unconscious feature, and felt like his heart was going to burst.

Because, from the day Richie promised that he would always be there for him, Eddie had fallen in love with him.

He just never thought that Richie would love him back.

“Do you see now?” Bill asked, his tone still just as soft. Beside him, Stanley was looking at him closely, the same look as the one Bill had was on his face.

Eddie sniffed and nodded, lifting his free hand to wipe his tears. “I do. Jesus Christ _,_ I was so fucking _blind._ He always did everything for me. And I never once told him how I appreciated it. Fuck, no wonder he believes that he’s so expendable. I should have done something long ago. I should...I should have told him that I- I… That I love him. So, _so much._ And now it’s too late. He may never wake up. I can never tell him how I really feel for him.”

“We’ll find a way to wake him up,” Bill said. He was suddenly already standing in front Eddie, and the next thing Eddie knew he was being pulled into Bill’s arms. Sagging completely into Bill, Eddie let his friend comfort him, burying his face into the crook of Bill’s neck as the man stroke his back. “Don’t worry, we’re all here to help you. We’ll save Richie together.”

“There’s nothing more I want in the world than to be able to protect him for once,” Eddie sobbed, his voice a little muffled. “But that selfless, self-sacrificing _idiot_ managed to one-up me anyway. What a fucking asshole.”

Bill chuckled, and if Eddie noticed it sounded a little wet, he let it be. “You two have the strangest way to show your love, you know,” Bill said. “Honestly, the both of you are so obvious to everyone but to each other. It’s fucking dumb.”

“Fuck off, Bill. Not everyone has the courage to go kissing around the first pretty redhead they find.”

“Fuck _you_. You think I didn’t notice the similarities between Beverly and Audra? Shit, I was _so_ em—“

“ _Sshh!_ ” Stanley snapped, clapping his hand loudly to shut them up. There was a bright look on his face when Eddie looked up at him. “Shut up, you two. I think I’ve figured it out!”

“You think you’ve figured out what?” Eddie asked, his heart quickened a beat as hope filled him.

Stanley rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which he definitely believed so. “How to wake Richie up, of course! Dammit, why didn’t I think of that earlier? It’s right _there_ all along! Could have saved us a lot of time. Hell, I wouldn’t even need to fly all the way from Georgia.”

“ _You_ shut up, Stan,” Bill said, even though he now had the same hopeful look that Eddie no doubt he also had on his face. “Just tell us what do you think it is.”

“I don’t _think._ I _know._ Like I said, the answer’s been there all along.”

“And that is?”

“True love’s kiss!”

There was a beat of silence before Eddie aimed his meanest glare at Stanley and said, “ _Are you fucking insane?_ What kind of answer is that? This is _not_ a fucking fairy tale, Uris! You can’t wake someone up from a coma with a kiss. Richie’s not a fucking Disney princess, for fuck’s sake!”

Stanley look at Richie and nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. He doesn’t quite have the hips.”

“Or the boobs,” Bill quipped.

“SHUT UP!” Eddie spat, narrowing his eyes at his two best friends who were now giggling like the childish assholes they were. “I am fucking serious! Stop laughing, you chucklefucks. God, I should have known you are just as fucking annoying as Richie. You were his friends first after all.”

“Hey, hey. Eddie. Hold up for a sec,” Bill said as he forced down his giggle. There was still a small smile on his face when he spoke next. “I think Stanley’s right. As ridiculous as you think it is, I think he’s got a point. I mean, _that’s_ how Ben woke Beverly up, remember? He kissed her, and she woke up.”

Eddie froze, all the fight left him in an instant. They were right. Ben _did_ wake Beverly up after she got Deadlighted by kissing her. And that was even before Beverly admitted she liked _liked_ Ben. Eddie started to chew on his lip as he looked between Richie then to Bill and Stanley. There really was a chance that it could work. He’d seen the proof. But on the other hand, there was still a part of him that doubted it. It wasn’t exactly Stanley’s theory that he doubted. No, Eddie was worried that his love wasn’t strong enough to wake Richie up. And that thought was terrifying.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Eddie said in a small voice.

“It will work. You just have to believe that it will,” Stanley replied easily.

_(“This kills monster, if you believe it does.”)_

“Yeah, but _still._ What if Richie doesn’t wake up? Haven’t you heard that a child’s belief is stronger than an adult’s? I got Richie into this mess because my belief wasn’t strong enough, and I failed to kill It. What if my kiss doesn’t wake Richie up?”

“Then we’ll find another way,” Bill said kindly. “And we’ll never stop trying until Richie opens his myopic eyes and starts to talk our ear off again. Losers stick together, remember?”

_(“I got you, buddy. I promise.”)_

“Okay. Alright,” Eddie breathed. “I’ll do it. And if it doesn’t, then fuck it. What more could I lose?”

“Eh, take the pessimism down by two notches there, man,” Stanley reprimanded, a slight frown on his face. "You have to believe, remember?”

Eddie felt his face flushed red. “Oh, yeah. Right. I’m sorry.”

“It's fine... Do you need some privacy, by the way?” Bill asked. “Stan and I can wait outside if you—“

“No,” Eddie said quickly. “Stay here. Please. I… I need you guys if this doesn’t work and…”

“Okay, Eddie,” Bill said, giving him an understanding smile. He then nodded toward Richie, taking a few steps away from Eddie to stand beside Stanley. Eddie knew that there was no reason for him to waste anymore time, so he took a deep breath, and turned fully in Richie’s direction.

Richie had an oxygen mask covering his face because, even though his organs worked perfectly normal, the doctors feared that one day they would just stop all of the sudden. Richie’s head was also wrapped in bandages, his curly hair was cut close to his scalp when the doctors treated the cut on the back of his head. Eddie found he was already missing Richie’s curls after only two days. Fuck it, Eddie was already missing _everything_ about Richie. He really couldn’t imagine how he could live the rest of his life without the idiot. He squeezed the hand that he was still holding, and lifted his free hand to take off the mask and then cup one side of Richie’s face. Eddie noted that Beverly _was_ right. Richie did grow into his looks. And boy, did Eddie like how grown up Richie looked. With a small grin on his face, Eddie gently stroked Richie’s high cheekbone, loving how his sharp jawline felt under his palm.

He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with his hands on Richie’s face, pulling him closer for a kiss he’d been owed for three decades.

From the corner of his eye, Eddie saw that Bill and Stanley had turned around and were talking quietly. Even though he did ask them to stay, he was grateful for the slight privacy they gave him. He took another deep breath, and finally leaned down toward Richie. He went to Richie’s ear first, felt his lips grazed the skin softly when he whispered, “Come back to me, Rich. Come back to me so I can love you the way I should have loved you all those years ago. Come back to me so you can love me in return.”

Eddie moved his face then until he was hovering right above Richie’s, and when he spoke again in the same soft whisper, their lips brushed against each other. “Come back to me, Rich, so we can love one another _forever._ ”

_I believe I love you more than enough. I believe my kiss will wake you up._

_I believe our love is true._

_I believe in us._

_I love you, Richie._

And then Eddie kissed Richie.

Now, Eddie had only kissed three people in his entire lifetime. The first one was a girl back in college that had kissed him during a game of Truth or Dare. The second one was a guy with whom he had a drunken make-out with during a party. The last one was Myra. So Eddie knew that meant he shouldn’t be complaining how awkward the kiss with Richie was. However, as cliché as it sounded, kissing an unresponsive Richie felt more right than his previous kisses. Eddie had no idea how long he’d spent kissing Richie, just that he had to make sure he’d poured all his love into the kiss. It could have been a minute, or an hour, or even a day. Eddie didn’t know, nor did he care. He pulled aback only when he deemed that the kiss was enough. He immediately search for signs that Richie was waking up, his eyes searching hungrily from Richie’s face to his body.

One minute passed. Two minutes. Five minutes.

_Ten fucking minutes._

“I knew it,” Eddie whispered, his tears already pouring down his face profusely. “It doesn’t work. He’s not waking up. I’m not good enough. I’ll never be good—“

“ _Eddie, look!”_

Bill didn’t have to say it though, because Eddie felt it. _Richie squeezed his hand!_ Whipping his head around, Eddie’s eyes went back on Richie’s face. It was like everything moved in a slow motion. First, Eddie noticed the tightening of Richie’s jaw. Then his friend— _the love of his life—_ did that cute, nose-scrunching thing that he always did when he was about to wake up from a deep sleep. Eddie waited with baited breath for the last and most important thing. After what felt like a century, Richie slowly opened his eyes. At first, his practically-blind pale blue eyes were completely unfocused as he blinked them a couple times. But then, despite the lack of his glasses, those eyes Eddie loved so much zeroed in on Eddie’s own brown eyes.

And Eddie watched as the most breath-taking smile took over Richie’s face.

“Hiya, Eds,” Richie whispered, leaning deeper into the palm of Eddie’s hand. “Looking cute as always.”

Rolling his eyes as a giggle escaped him, Eddie said, “You fucking _idiot._ ”

And like a typical fairy tale, Eddie kissed Richie again.

* * *

_Beverly knew right away what was going to happen the moment she closed her eyes, sleeping in the safety of Ben’s strong arms. One moment she was in the Town House, then the next thing she knew was that she’d moved. It didn’t take her long to realise that she was at the clubhouse, which looked exactly the way it was back when she and her friends were all still kids. As if twenty years hadn’t passed and time hadn’t changed the place that was a safe haven for them all. It took her a while though to notice the figure lying in the blue hammock in front of her._

_It was Richie, in all his six-foot-something, broad-shouldered glory._

_“Richie?” she called, causing the man to jerk in surprise. When he turned his head to look at her, Beverly couldn’t help but to think that Richie looked far healthier than he was before. Even compared to his pre-Deadlighted moments._

_“What are you doing here, Bev?” Richie asked, his tone a little scared. He looked up then, toward the clubhouse’s trapdoor. “How…how many years have passed Up there? Is it your time now?”_

_“My time? What do you—“ Beverly faltered, knowing exactly in an instant what was on Richie’s mind. She shook her head and slowly approaced him. “No, I’m not dead, Rich. I’m just asleep, actually. I don’t really know how or why I got here, to be honest. And it’s only been two days since we defeated It.”_

_“Two days, huh?” Richie hummed. He pulled out a cigarette seemingly from out of nowhere, and took a deep breath from it. In a far quieter, softer tone, he continued. “It feels a lot longer down here.”_

_Beverly was about to ask him how long had it been for him, when she suddenly heard Eddie’s voice. From the look on his face, she knew that Richie heard it too. That he heard Eddie’s pleas for him to come back. That he heard Eddie’s proclamation of love. That he heard Eddie’s promise for forever. Richie’s hand that was holding a cigarette pressed between his right index and middle fingers trembled, and it made his whole body shake too. Despair was written in his face, and Beverly’s heart broke at the sight of it. The Richie she grew up with would never look this miserable. He was the light and life of_ everything. _And Beverly knew, right then and there, what she was supposed to do. She knew why she was there with Richie._

_“Come on,” she said, reaching forward so she could gently hold his free hand. “Let’s go see Eddie.”_

_Richie shook his head frantically as he tugged his hand out of Beverly’s grip, the whole time his tears started to fall. “I can’t, Bev. Don’t you think I’d have tried by now? You know I would. You know I would try everything in my power to be with Eddie. But I just_ can’t. _I can’t get out of here.”_

_“Well, that’s why I’m here, I think,” Beverly said, taking his hand back into hers again. “I’m here to guide you back to Eddie. Consider me your Guardian Angel or something.”_

_“But what if it doesn’t work?” Richie asked, his voice small and uncertain, almost like a child would. “What if I really_ have _to stay Down here until the rest of you come join me?”_

_“Then_ I’ll _stay with you,” she replied easily. “I’ll stay here with you, and together we’ll find a way out. Together. Losers stick together, Rich. Remember that.”_

_“No, I can’t let you do that for me. You should go ahead and just leave me here.”_

_“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for_ all _of us. Because we need our Trashmouth. There’s no Losers Club without you, Rich.”_

_“But what if—“_

_Beverly groaned in exasperation, which shut Richie up miraculously. “Do you trust me, asshole?”_

_Richie had the gall to look offended. “Of course, I do. What the fuck kind of question is that?”_

_“Well, if you do, then come with me. Come on, Rich. I’m not leaving without you.”_

_For a split second, Beverly thought Richie would say no again. The hesitation and fear in his eyes were so palpable, Beverly started to feel unsure herself. But then a determined look took over, and Richie swung his legs down onto the floor as he gathered himself to stand beside Beverly. He gave her a small smile, smaller than what she was used to see on his face. But that was enough. That was a good start. She knew that Eddie could make that smile bigger._

_“Very well,” Richie said. “Lead the way then, Miss Marsh. And take me back to my handsome prince.”_

_Beverly laughed, and she was glad when she heard Richie laughed too. “Come on then, pretty damsel. Let’s get you back to your prince.”_

_Together, they took one step at a time toward the trapdoor._

_And went back Up to join their friends._


	5. The Tozier Express, Destination Dream Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their life was far from easy, but they were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello there! Here's the final chapter to this story! Thank you for all of you who have read and commented and gave kudos. It means a lot to me :) Also, I'd like to tell you guys that I have another -- yes, another! -- Reddie story coming up. It's an AU-No Pennywise story about the Losers and their parents and the title is _**"Spirits in the Dark"**_. I won't tell you much, lest I'll spoil it. But I'll give you a quick summary for it.
> 
> _"Although Wentworth and Frank had been friends since the day they were born, they never though that their friendship would set the path for their sons. Neither did Zack and Donald ever guessed that when they became friends in primary school, their sons would be closer than twins. No one knew what the future would be. Not even Elfrida, Maggie, Sharon and Andrea had ever imagined that their children would be the best of friends."_
> 
> What do you think? If you guys like it, please tell me about it :D Anyways, enough talking. Here goes the epilogue!

The loud crack of thunder roughly awoken the five-year-old blonde from her slumber with a small scream. Pulling her blanket over her face, she let out a whimper as she squeezed her eyes shut. She could hear storm raging outside of her house, and she was suddenly struck with the paralyzing fear that the thunder could hit her somehow. Tears were falling from her closed eyes as sobs began to wrack her small body. Her own sobs filling her ears was the only reason she couldn't hear a voice calling out for her a name. It was only until she felt a hand softly tapped her shoulder that she finally realised she wasn't all alone after all in her room. She yanked her blanket off her face and whipped around, letting out a relieved sigh when she saw the familiar face of a boy her age, whose face resembled her strongly.

"Reyna," the boy said once again, his grey eyes looked deeply into her own grey ones in worry. "You okay, sis?"

"Ethan!" the girl breathed out, practically kicking her blanket away so she could hug the boy tightly. Burying her face deeply into his neck, she whispered, "I was so scared. _So, so scared._ "

"I know, I know," Ethan said, his voice oddly mature for someone his age as he stroke his sister's back in a comforting manner. "But I'm here. I'm _always_ here, Rey."

Reyna nodded, calming down a little as she pulled back from her brother. She looked a little shy then, head tipped down a bit to avoid her brother's eyes that were identical to hers. In a small voice, she said, "I want to sleep with Pops and Daddy."

Ethan smiled understandingly at his sister and took her hand in his. "Okay. Let's go to their room."

Together, hand in hand, the twins walked passed their twin beds and headed out of their room. It was still storming outside, and when another thunder clapped, Reyna couldn't help herself when her grip on her brother's hand tightened almost painfully. Completely unbothered by it though, Ethan merely patted their clasped hands with his free one, and led their way to their fathers' room. The boy had a proud grin on his face when he found that he could now reach the handle of the door without tiptoeing. He then pushed it as slowly as he could, making sure that he didn't make too much sound. He even gestured at his sister to keep it quiet when he thought her socked-feet rubbing against the floor was too noisy. Unfortunately, their Pops was an insomniac light-sleeper. Like Reyna, the storm had kept him wide awake, and he'd heard his children leaving their room despite their effort to make as little sound as possible. So when he saw the twins poking their heads into the room, he was already looking at them with a smile on his face, even though the lower part of his face was covered by his husband's head.

"Why, hello there," Richie Tozier said in an uncharacteristically soft tone, lest he'd wake up the man in his arms. "You kids up for a sleepover?"

Reyna giggled while Ethan grinned sheepishly. Looking a lot more confident, the girl pulled her brother along with her toward their fathers' bed. "The thunder woke me up, and I was so scared. But it's okay, because I have Ethan."

"That's great. You two take care of each other, yes?" Richie said, looking at his children with an overwhelming sense of pride, which made the twins preened.

"I'll always be there for Rey, Pops. And I know she will too," Ethan promised with such conviction that Richie often wondered whether his son was secretly an adult.

"I know you will... Now, hop on the bed, children. The Tozier Express is about to make its trip to Dream Land. Be careful, though. Don’t wake your Dad."

“Okay!” the twins squealed in laughter and literally jumped onto their fathers’ bed, tucking themselves between both men as they got under the covers that Richie had pulled down for them.

“Hey, pipe down, kids,” Richie reprimanded when he saw his husband scrunched up his face adorably, in the same way he always did since they were children themselves.

“Sorry, Pops!” both children said immediately, turning around in unison to watch their other father slowly waking up. At the sight of his opened brown eyes, the twins said, “Hi, Dad!”

“Wha—?” Eddie groaned, blinking his eyes a couple times to focus them. There was a slight frown on his face when he looked at his children, despite the fond smile he tried to give them. But the moment he realised the weather outside, understanding shone in his eyes. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise. I didn’t think we’d be having a sleepover tonight.”

“Can we sleep here for the night, Dad? Pops said it’s okay,” Reyna said. She looked a little worried still, even with Richie’s reassurance. She was her Daddy’s little girl after all. She lived for Eddie’s approval.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie cooed as he blew noisy kisses into Reyna’s blonde locks, which prompted a round of giggles from her. “You know you don’t need to ask about that. We love having you and your brother here.”

Reyna grinned and burrowed herself deep into Eddie’s arms, and the man happily wrapped his arms around her. Across him, he smiled at the sight of his son lying on top of Richie’s chest, already half-lulled to sleep from the man's soft humming. While his sister was Eddie’s princess, Ethan was Richie’s little man trough and through. Everyone was always surprised to find the boy, who was a serious and quiet child compared to his sister, to be the one closest with Richie. Everyone thought that it would be Reyna, seeing that she was practically a mini Richie in a dress. At the same time, people were just as surprised that the girl would feel most comfortable with Eddie. Stanley was the only one who found it completely normal. He said that their personalities complimented their children’s. Seeing that Stanley was the first one in their family to have a child, Eddie never questioned his logic.

“They’re growing up so fast,” Richie said softly, his voice breaking Eddie out of his reverie. He had his chin pressed on top of Ethan’s head, a serene smile on his face as he slowly and carefully scooted closer toward Eddie, one hand wound tightly around his son to keep him on his chest.

“I know right,” Eddie replied, also scooting closer toward Richie so his husband could wrap his free arm around him, careful not to wake his now-sleeping daughter that was pressed between them. He tilted his head slightly to look at Richie, whose blue eyes had already found his.

“If someone had told me, eight years ago, than one day _this_ would be my life, I would probably send them to the nearest asylum,” Richie said. “I had lived for so long believing that I didn’t deserve a happy ending. Hell, I didn’t even think I would live for a long time. I was pretty content with the idea of dying to save my friends and the love of my life.”

_(“Richie, wake up, you bastard! Wake up! Rich, come on! Look, I did it! I killed the clown. Look, dammit! I killed It! I killed It! Fucking look, Richie, please!")_

“Promise me,” Eddie whispered. “Promise me that you will _never_ leave me and the kids. If you have to choose between living or dying, for whoever’s sake it is, _always_ choose us. Promise me.”

It wasn’t until Richie was using his free hand to wipe his tears away that Eddie realised he was crying. Even with their children between them, Richie managed to crane his neck forward to plant a kiss on his forehead. In the same soft voice he’d been using, Richie said, “Eddie, my love; I swear to you, I will always choose you and the kids. I swear that _nothing_ can ever separate us. If I could survive a hundred years of torture in a Void that It created, surely I can fucking take anything. I got you, remember? It’s you and me against the world, Eds. And with our children too, of course.”

“ _Fuck,_ kiss me, Chee,” Eddie gasped as his tears fell profusely. “I need you to kiss me.”

“As you wish, babe,” Richie said, readily obeying his husband’s request.

It wasn’t like Richie could ever say no to Eddie. It was his downfall after. It was his weakness. _Eddie_ was his weakness. He would do everything for Eddie, and he already did. He had died for Eddie, and he had lived for him. The past eight years had been the happiest time of Richie’s life, and he would do it all over again if it mean he got to be with Eddie and his beloved children. From the moment he woke up after his coma, Richie swore that he’d spend the rest of his life to give Eddie the happy ending he deserved. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park to make it happen. There were a lot of things that they had to deal with. Starting from Myra and her insistence to keep Eddie as if he was an object instead of a person, to Richie’s crumbling-then-rising career that demanded all of his time and energy. Then there was also the trauma from the torture Richie had gone through, that no therapist could ever really help him.

Richie never gave up though. He knew that all the obstacles he faced would be worth it in the end, because that meant he got another chance with Eddie. He was grateful that he had the rest of the Losers to not only help him, but also Eddie. He knew how the other man had his own struggles, such as the leftover trauma that Myra gave him and his crippling doubt that made him believed he would never be enough for Richie. The Losers were with them every step of the way to their recovery, supporting them just enough without smothering them. As always, Bill and Stanley were a great deal of help for them. No one understood Richie and Eddie as well as their two oldest friends. Stanley was always there after his worst nightmares that not even Eddie could help him, and Bill would always be the first one to reassure Eddie that he was the best thing that could ever happen to Richie.

Their life was far from easy, but they were happy.

And their happiness quadrupled when the twins came into their life.

“Hey, Eds?”

“Yes, Chee?”

“I fucked your mum.”

“Fuck you too, bro.”

"Rey, Pops and Dad said the F word."

_"And you should be sleeping, young man!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you very much for reading and leaving a comment and giving me kudos. Feel free to tell me what you think about this story. Till next time, everyone ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to read my other two IT stories -- [Crawled Back to Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21145847) and [Without Pretense](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21464137). And if you want to talk to me more, whether about the stupid clown book/movie or other stuffs, come visit my tumblr [ofqueensandwitches](https://ofqueensandwitches.tumblr.com/)! ;)


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